Legendary
by The Rogue Lion
Summary: Heroes are the exceptional few that arise from the masses of society. They make something for themselves using the gifts they have been given. Among those heroes, some become something much more; they become legendary.


**A/N: **I've decided to do a rewrite of this chapter as well as a republish. It has been a long time since my last update, and this is practically a new story anyhow.

* * *

_This is the danger of simply jumping into a community without going through the basic exercise of determining your own personal life goals, mission, and purpose. It's the danger faced by the founders of a community if they fail to go through a similar group exercise. When the bigg—_

"Ahem."

A purple dragon, approaching the end of his adolescence, looked up from his book to see a short mole standing before him. The dragon flinched; the mole had caught him by surprise. "I-I'm sorry," he said shakily. "I didn't see you."

"Humph," the mole responded. "The library is closing now. Please return the books," he pointed to the stack next to the dragon, "to their respective shelves."

"But the sun hasn't even gone down yet!" the dragon contested. He pointed towards the window behind him. "See! It's still—"

"Afternoon, approaching evening," the mole finished for him.

The dragon took another look and finally noticed the orange glow of the sun. "Oh," he said dejectedly. The mole turned and began to walk away. "Wait!" The dragon called. The mole stopped and looked at him. "Can I borrow a couple of these?"

The mole sighed, earning him a disappointed look from the dragon. "Very well. Come to the front desk. Just put the ones you aren't borrowing back to their shelves.

The dragon smiled happily and nodded. He quickly gathered the books he intended to further read and laid them aside. Then he picked up the rest and hurriedly shoved them into their proper slots. The purple dragon quickly returned to the spot where he had left his books and grabbed them along with the satchel he had brought. He made his way to the front desk and placed his books onto the table.

The mole looked up and took out a quill an a piece of paper. "Name?"

"Uh, haven't we done this enough times for you to know who I am, Aldar?"

"Name?"

The dragon sighed and relented to the too-tedious process of borrowing books. "Spyro."

"Age?"

"Seventeen."

"Sex?"

"Male."

"Race?"

"Dragon..."

"Color?"

"...purple," Spyro muttered.

"Repeat that, please."

"Purple," he said a bit more loudly.

Aldar continued to scribble Spyro's information down for a few more seconds. Finally, much to the purple's delight, he said, "Everything seems to be in order. You may borrow these books. Return them in two weeks."

Spyro nodded and shoved the three books he had selected into his satchel and happily skipped through the open doorway of the library. As his paws met the cobblestone road, the doors creaked as they closed behind him. Outside, torches were already lit to provide light for the slowly darkening afternoon. Spyro turned to his right and followed the path back home, passing several cheetahs, moles, and manweersmalls.

Spyro felt slightly relieved. He hadn't run into any of his kind yet and he hoped for this behavior to continue. Unfortunately, it only lasted until he reached the pub.

There were three dragons hanging around the perimeter of the bar. Their colors consisted of red, brown, and grey—the last colors he would ever hope to see. They laughed loudly and foolishly at the most vulgar jokes. It was obvious that they were already intoxicated.

Spyro tried to sneak past them, hoping they would be too drunk to notice him slinking by.

"Well look who it is, boys!" the fire dragon called. "It's the purple runt!"

Spyro cringed and laughed sheepishly. If he played his cards right, he could get off with just a scratch. "H-hey Ashe, Boulder, Sickle. Have you guys tried Tsal's ale? I heard it's pretty—"

"Shut up!" Ashe commanded. "We don't need any lip from a scrawny weakling like you!"

"Yeah!" Boulder, the brown dragon, laughed.

"A lizard doesn't have the right to speak to real dragons like us!" Sickle, the grey dragon, added.

Spyro flinched at their words and said nothing. It was very dark now and if he didn't get away soon, he would have little hope of escaping with only a scratch. He got up and adjusted his satchel and tried to turn away, but the red dragon, Ashe, stood in the way.

"Where do you think you're going?" he taunted. "We haven't even started yet!" Ashe smacked Spyro's face with his paw and sent him to the floor.

Spyro quickly brought his wings up to shield his body as he cowered on the floor. "Please stop," he pleaded.

This earned him a swipe to his side. His purple scales protected him from most of the attack, but it still hurt. Boulder slammed his tail on Spyro's back, his wings barely helping. "Not a chance," the brown dragon said loudly.

Sickle sent a blast of wind towards the purple dragon, sending him a few feet away. As he landed, the books he had borrowed flew out of his satchel and landed before the three dragons.

"What do we have here?" Ashe asked.

"It looks like a book," Boulder replied.

"_The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight_," Sickle read. "_Advancements of the Flame._ What kind of books are these?!"

"Give that back!" Spyro half-shouted. The three other drakes glared at him, causing him to shrink. "T-they're for my studies..."

"And is this for your studies too?" Ashe asked, referring to another book. "_Dark Legacy_."

"Hey!" Boulder exclaimed. "It's that book about the albino dragon!"

"The purple freak feels like the albino now, does he?" Sickle sneered.

The trio laughed in unison. Spyro shakily got up and tried to take his books back. "I don't think so!" Ashe said, holding the books out of Spyro's reach. A small flame appeared in the fire dragon's paw. "I wonder how fast these things will burn..."

"No!" cried Spyro. "Those books aren't mine!"

"Too bad!"

"Burn 'em, Ashe!" said Boulder.

Defeated, Spyro relented to them and submitted. He wasn't nearly strong enough to take them on. Now he had to figure out how to explain the ashes to Aldar.

"Now what seems to be going on here?" a voice called out.

The flame in Ashe's paw extinguished and the books he held fell to the floor. A much larger, adult fire dragon stood before them.

He had large yellow horns and yellow belly scales. Ruby encrusted rings adorned his horns and a ruby necklace sat upon his neck. A gold cloak rested on his back. The silver outline of a dragon's head was inscribed into the material. This marked him as one of the king's personal subjects.

"M-master Ignitus!" the three cried out.

"Now what were you doing to this poor dragon," Ignitus said, "and his books?"

"W-we weren't doing anything to him!" Ashe exclaimed unconvincingly.

"It's true!" Sickle said. "We were just...playing!"

"Aren't you three a little too old to be playing this rough?" Ignitus questioned.

"Well, we just had a little too much to drink!" Boulder added.

"Maybe I should ask Tsal to not serve you as much drink from now on," the large fire dragon suggested."

The trio fled from the scene, all rushing past Spyro to their homes. Ignitus picked up the books Ashe had dropped and walked over to Spyro. The purple dragon looked away from the large fire dragon. "Thank you, Ignitus," he mumbled.

"You are welcome, young dragon," he replied. "Now then. Are you hurt?"

Spyro glanced at his side and winced upon seeing a newly formed dark mark. "I have a new bruise," he said sheepishly. He saw Ignitus' worried look and quickly added, "But it doesn't really hurt. I'm used to it by now!"

Ignitus sighed sadly. He detested seeing the purple hurt. "Let's go back to the castle and see what the healer can do."

Spyro shook his head hastily. "I don't need to see a healer. I'm fine! You worry too much!"

_And I have a good reason to._ Ignitus gave up, knowing that any further urging on his part would be futile. "Very well then. It's still rather late. We should head back now. We can't have one of the castle's brightest out this late."

"Uh, right..." Spyro said. He shoved his books back into his satchel and started down the cobblestone path again.

Ignitus followed suit and studied the young dragon in front of him. _What am I going to do with you, my son?_

* * *

"Wake up, young dragon! Wake up!"

Spyro's eyes cracked open. He was at his desk. _I must've fallen asleep while studying._

"We have an audience with the king!" Ignitus shouted through the door. "Get up!"

"What!" exclaimed Spyro. He quickly shot up, sending papers flying. One page loosely hung from his cheek. He carefully peeled it off and rubbed his eyes. "I'll be right out!" he called towards the door.

"Just be quick," replied Ignitus.

Dozens of questions swum through Spyro's mind. Why did they have an audience with the king? What would they discuss? Was his studies progressing too slowly? The purple dragon spiraled into a swirl of stress.

He made his way through the mess in his room to the bathroom. He checked his features in the mirror and spotted a splotch of ink on his face. Spyro quickly rubbed it off, allowing his purple scales to be seen again. The curves of his maw formed a frown.

Spyro exited the bathroom and opened his bedroom door. On the other side stood Ignitus. "Sorry for the wait," Spyro said.

"If you had taken longer to get up, it would not be me you would have to apologize to."

Spyro nodded silently and looked down at his paws. "Do you know what the king wants from us?"

"I may have an idea," said Ignitus.

"Like what?"

The adult fire dragon walked to the doorway that led to the hall. "I may have mentioned that incident the other evening."

"You didn't need to do that..." Spyro replied. "I told you that I was fine."

"Just like all those other times?"

"I—"

"We'll be late if we don't leave now," the fire dragon said. He walked out the door with Spyro following closely.

As they made their way to the king, who was likely in the throne room, they passed by numerous paintings that were hung high on the walls. These pieces of art depicted valleys, forests, rivers and other natural marvels. When they reached the hall leading to the throne room, the paintings changed.

Regal paintings of past kings lined the walls. Dozens of canvases were surrounded by a silver or gold lining. Each of these kings shared the same traits—ivory horns protruding from their skulls, ebony black and dark red scales, and emerald green eyes. These traits denoted that one was of royal blood.

Spyro studied each of the portraits as best he could while walking forward. Their eyes all centered on him. He felt a chill go down his spine.

Ignitus stopped abruptly, causing the purple to do the same. Before them was a pair of large oaken doors. Intricate lines of silver weaved across its face and gold adorned the sides. Spyro had seen the door up close only a few times before. Each time he had been mesmerized by its design.

"Ready, young dragon?"

Snapping out of his trance, Spyro replied, "Y-yes."

Ignitus nodded and pushed on the doors. It seemed to give away easily under his paws. The gap between the doors steadily increased until it reached its apex. With the doors wide open, a lone dark figure could be seen resting on a large throne across the room.

"Ignitus!" it called out. "And young Spyro as well! I was wondering when you two would arrive! Come, come!"

Ignitus strode forward at a pace slightly quicker than before. Spyro had a hard time keeping up without looking too flustered. As the pair approached the throne, the figure's features became more distinguished—ivory horns, black and red scales, and green eyes. It was the king. _Who else would it possibly be? _Spyro thought.

The two stopped several feet in front of the throne and dipped their heads as a sign of respect. "Your majesty," Ignitus greeted. He briefly glanced at Spyro, motioning for him to do the same.

"G-good morning, your highness."

The black waved his paw dismissively. "Bah!" he cried, surprising Spyro. "You know I don't enjoy the formalities, Ignitus! Especially with an old friend!"

The fire dragon chuckled. "It amuses me to see you so flustered by a simple title."

"There's nothing 'simple' about it."

"You have a point there."

"Yes, I do," the king said jokingly. "Now onto business," he said more sternly. He turned to face Spyro. "Master Ignitus has informed me of the trouble you've been getting in with the local townsfolk. More specifically those of our kind."

"I—uh..." The purple wanted to looked away. "Yes, your majesty..."

"And why is this?"

"I-I don't know, your majesty."

Unsatisfied with the young dragon's answer, he continued, "Surely there must be a reason for their ill treatment of a castle resident." The king studied the drake, trying to glean an answer from his body. Faint, barely noticeable scars dotted his frame. His build was a small one and he had as many muscles as a hatchling half his age. There wasn't much to the purple dragon.

"Ignitus," he began again. "Why do you think our kind would even think to bully one as fine as your son?"

"I cannot say for sure, sire, but I have heard glimpses of what they say to him."

"Such as?" the king asked curiously.

"One of the most common seem to be 'freak'."

Spyro barely flinched when Ignitus said the word, but his reaction was enough to satisfy the king.

"So they hate you for the color of your scales, is it?" Spyro remained silent, but nodded. "Very well then. Ignitus!"

"Yes?"

"I approve of your request."

Spyro looked up at the fire dragon, who seemed to be slightly relieved. "Thank you," Ignitus replied.

The king nodded. "Spyro, starting in a week's time, you will be joining Masters Ignitus and Terrador for training in both magical and physical combat."

Upon hearing this, Spyro stiffened. He couldn't refuse no matter how much he wished to. "Yes, your majesty."

"You may go."

Spyro dipped his head in another bow and turned around. Ignitus, however, stayed behind. Confused, the purple dragon stopped to wait, but Ignitus dismissed him as well. "I have another matter to discuss here, young dragon," he said.

"O-okay..."

"Don't fret, Spyro," the king added. "I'll return your father when we're finished here."

"Uh, yes, your majesty." The purple started towards the door once more.

"One more thing," the king called out. "You don't have to address me as 'your majesty' when we're alone. 'Cipher' will suffice."

"Y-yes, King Cipher."

The black dragon chuckled. "Just 'Cipher'."

"R-right." Spyro quickly retreated, not wanting to feel more awkward than he already did. He wanted to get to his books as soon as possible. The purple needed a nice distraction right now.

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**A/N:** I've decided to do a complete rewrite of this first chapter, as stated earlier. The quality of the last write did not satisfy me and this one does a better job at what I want to do with this story. At the same time, the quality of this write isn't as good as I like, but it suits my needs nonetheless. Suggestions on where and how to improve would be greatly appreciated.

The process of updating this mess looks like it will be less stagnant. I've been able to do the writing via mobile, so games at home shouldn't get in the way as much anymore.

A thank you to Dardarax for allowing me to briefly use his characters from his story.


End file.
